Now, you may be wondering why – oh, why – I had a camera handy in the bathtub with me.

Bwahahahaha! I’ll never tell.

Tell us, Beth.

OK, you broke me. I’ll tell.

(What can I say? I wouldn’t do well under torture.)

I keep my phone (the smart one that has a camera) next to me in the bathtub in case there’s a kid emergency. I am a mother of 5 children; I need to be available around the clock.

Isn’t that noble?

And, um, I also keep my phone next to me in case I need Greg to refill my wine glass.

Hey. Emergencies come in all kinds of flavors, right? Like Merlot flavor. And Pinot Noir flavor. And Sangiovese flavor.

‘Cause nothing’s worse than being wet and cold and trying to explain to the mob of neighborhood kids who run in and out of my house as though it’s a regular thoroughfare why I’m clutching a wine bottle in one hand and holding my towel closed with the other. That’s how neighborhood rumors get started. Or how they persist.

After I got over my initial terror, I pulled out my camera phone and started snapping.

I figured that if my family later found my lifeless body floating in the tub with tiny, plastic bite marks all over, they’d know what happened by looking at the photographic evidence.

Then I looked through the photos and had to retake the picture ’cause I realized that the metal overflow drain is reflective. And the only thing worse than having your mother ruthlessly murdered by a possessed toy is having a permanent record of your less-than-clothed mum as seen through the fun-house mirror that is our overflow drain.

Best use of the “delete photo” button ever.

Then I finished my bath, attired myself appropriately, and went downstairs to play with eggs.

Eggs have recently become very important at our house.

“Duuuuude. Eegggggs.”

Way back last week, we used to buy enormous quantities of eggs at our local discount grocery store. Like, five dozen at a time.

6 thoughts on “I’m being stalked by an evil plastic dinosaur.”

GRRRRRoan. Please pass the Sangiovese.
I’m afraid (not literally) of duck eggs. I love eggs, but if I think too hard on them I simply can-not-eat-them without gagging. I am a vegetarian (ovo-lacto variety) and I just pretend that eggs grow on trees or something. I have a friend who has a couple of geese, and I don’t think I’d knowingly eat those eggs, either. I’m weird, I know.